


Undone: Sunburn

by fivebluesocks



Series: Undone [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alcohol, Angst, Consensual Underage Sex, Dean is Eighteen Years Old, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Masturbation, Nipple Play, Pre-Series, Sam is Fourteen Years Old, Underage Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester, Underage Drinking, Weecest, Wincest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-11
Updated: 2014-11-11
Packaged: 2018-02-25 00:13:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2601497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fivebluesocks/pseuds/fivebluesocks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's like Sam knows when to strike.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Undone: Sunburn

It's like Sam knows when to strike. Dean's been able to avoid mention of that night at the lake, but he hasn't been able to keep it out of his head. Sam's moans, the feel of Sam's skin under his hands, the way he'd come without even being touched. He's been hyperaware of Sam for the week or so since then, aware of the space between them and when it dwindled to nothing, aware of his tanned skin and pink mouth and searching hazel eyes, bright in his dark face.

He's been able to keep anything else from happening, though. It hasn't been that hard; Dean has laid off the beer for awhile, and Sam hasn't pushed, hasn't even hinted at trying something, other than the way he looked at Dean. 

Not that he's the one who tried last time; that was all on Dean, who had turned innocent rough-housing into something shameful.

He's been careful, he's been sober. But now it's Sunday, and Dean's been drinking all day while he watched Sam swim, and Sam actually has a sunburn from being out at the lake all day. It's glowing rosy through his tan, from his shoulders all the way down to his feet.

"Ow ow ow," Sam says, walking around the house in a pair of ratty basketball shorts. He ducks into the fridge for a coke and drinks it with the fridge door open, then he leans in again, letting the frosty air puff out around him.

Dean watches from the stained little kitchen table, thinking that when Sam's through, he might take a turn at the fridge, too.

Then Sam reaches into the fridge. "Sweet!" he exclaims, pulling out a cold bottle of aloe.

"Can you get my back, Dean?"

Dean rolls his eyes, using the very picture of _annoyed big brother_ to mask his nerves. "You've barely got a sunburn."

"Please? It really hurts." Sam looks crestfallen, and Dean wonders if this is genuine, or an act. The fact that he's suspicious makes him uncomfortable, but then again, he's always watched Sam for signs of manipulative behavior. He _does_ have the most powerful puppy-dog eyes.

And he's giving them to Dean right now. "I'll get your shoulders if you need me to," Sam says.

Dean's shoulders do hurt. It's been several days since he'd made the mistake of working with his shirt off, but his fair skin is unforgiving. His shoulders and back are still pink and peeling, and a little aloe vera wouldn't go amiss.

He holds back a sigh. "Okay," he says, "But only if you get me first."

Sam smiles. "Deal," he says.

Dean peels off his sticky shirt. It's hot in the little cabin. There's no air conditioner, and even with the windows open at nine o'clock at night, there's barely a breeze. He stands to spin his chair and sit on it backwards, and the room sways gently around him.

It feels so good when Sam slathers a palmful of aloe over his shoulders that Dean sighs. Sam is careful, spreading it gingerly, and the slick, cool feeling of his hands on Dean's skin makes Dean drop his head forward.

"You're peeling," Sam says, rubbing cold wetness down his spine.

"Yeah." 

Sam's hands go down, cooling and soothing his lower back in broad sweeps.

"You've got a lot of freckles," Sam says.

"Shut up," Dean says, but there's no heat behind it. He's getting all loose and comfortable, and Sam's hands feel like magic. He runs a thumb up Dean's spine and Dean breaks out in goosebumps, skin going all tingly and tight, and he just barely manages not to moan. His cock twitches in his jeans, fattening up.

_This is dangerous._

Sam squeezes the muscle caps of his shoulders, sending another shiver of heat through Dean's body. "I'm good, you can stop," he says, his tongue thick in his mouth.

He hears the clap of the bottle cap closing, then Sam's standing in front of him, smiling. It kind of breaks Dean's heart to see how happy Sam is when he gets to do something nice for Dean.

It also breaks his heart that he can't stop staring at Sam's body. Sam's lean and muscular and smooth, his body hinting at impressive potential. His face is still sweet, but his jaw is getting sharper, his cheekbones more prominent by the week, it seems. He's... really hot, and it hurts Dean to think it. 

But he can't help it. 

He takes a deep breath. "Your turn," he says.

"Okay," Sam says, still smiling, his dimples adorable and _sexy_ , goddamnit. Sam walks away, and after a minute he calls out from the bedroom. "I'm ready!"

Dean takes a few deep breaths, searching for equilibrium. It's hard to find, though, knowing that Sammy's probably lying on his bed, stretched out and waiting for Dean to touch him.

Dean's right. Once he gets up, swaying on his feet, and walks into the bedroom, Sam's lying face-down on the blanket, naked, his shorts a little pile beside the bed.

_Jesus, Sammy._

It's too much to take in. Dean stares, watching the way the moonlight caresses Sam's dark skin, watching the small muscles in Sam's back twitch. Sam's nervous.

Dean is, too. But a deal's a deal, he tells himself, and he steps forward to kneel at the side of the bed.

To break the tension, Dean squirts out a big glob of cold aloe on Sam's lower back. Sam squawks and spasms, clutching his pillow tight.

"Feel good, Sammy?" Dean asks, grinning.

"Come on, do it right," Sam begs. "It really hurts."

"Okay, fine. Spoil sport."

Dean lays his hand on the big glob of aloe and begins spreading it upward, smoothing it along Sam's over-warm back. Sam moves subtly under his hand, rocking into it. Dean squeezes a palmful out onto his other hand and begins spreading it over Sam's sunburned shoulders.

"Mmm," Sam purrs, smiling into the pillow. His skin is so soft, his body so hard.

 _This is dangerous,_ Dean thinks again. The playfulness of just a moment ago has already evaporated, and this is turning into a disturbingly sensual thing.

"Get my neck," Sam murmurs, and Dean slips his hand up to the back of Sam's slim neck. He rubs in the aloe, then slips his hand into Sam's sweaty hair.

Sam hums in pleasure as Dean gently massages his scalp. Dean's not entirely sure why he's doing it; but it makes him feel good to make Sammy feel good. Which is... dangerous.

He takes a deep breath, trying to skirt away from that thought. "Let me get your arms," he says, hoping that'll be a little less intense.

He's right. It's a relief to just spread cool aloe on Sam's skin without being distracted by his purring and stretching.

"My legs?" Sam says sleepily, and Dean obliges, spreading thick handfuls over the back of Sam's burned thighs. But now Sam's white bottom is distracting him; he can't keep his eyes off it while he wets Sam's calves, so he closes them, and just goes by feel.

Then Sam's moving, the sheets rustling, and when Dean opens his eyes, Sam's lying on his back, his dick hard, his nipples drawn up into sharp little points, his pupils blown wide.

Dean almost pushes himself away from the bed. Thinks that if he were a stronger man, he would.

"Get my front?" Sam asks quietly, and Dean isn't strong, not at all.

With trepidation, he wets Sam's stomach, rubbing big circles, feeling Sam's abs flex and move under his hot skin. Sam rolls his hips up. Dean's been doing his best not to look at Sam's dick, but now his eyes are inexorably drawn to it.

His cock is beautiful; long and slender, slightly thicker just under the round, ruddy head, and with a gentle upcurve that makes Dean's mouth go dry.

Smoothing aloe up to the middle of Sam's chest, Dean watches Sam's cock jerk, watches a thick bead of precum well up in the little slit.

He wonders if he can make Sam come again.

He wants desperately to make Sam come again.

His cock is so hard in his pants, and he's terrified.

"Keep going," Sam whispers, his eyes closed, face visibly flushed even through his sunburn.

Dean doesn't think he could stop, even if he really wanted to. He fills his palm with more aloe and slowly, tentatively spreads it over Sam's chest. Sam gasps pushing up against Dean's hand. He wriggles, trying to follow Dean's caresses, trying to get Dean's fingers on his nipples.

It's intoxicating, watching Sam move like that, hearing the little swallowed noises he makes. After a moment, Dean finally relents and circles Sam's nipple with a wet fingertip.

"Oh," Sam moans softly, then he bites his lip when Dean teases the hard little tip.

Dean slips his fingers across Sam's slick chest to the other nipple, and "Please, don't stop," Sam begs, and Dean, utterly lost, finally just _gives in_.

He palms his dick while he twists one nipple, then the other, and he can feel sticky wetness staining the inside of his boxers. He looks down and Sam's leaking too, a thick drop beside his belly button connected to the tip of his twitching cock by a shivering strand of precum.

It's killing Dean, the way Sam writhes and twists on the bed, the soft little noises he makes as Dean rubs his nipples. Dean is transfixed, aroused, fascinated.

He needs more.

Dean licks his lips and leans forward. He runs his tongue over Sam's hard nipple, and the aloe is bitter, but it's worth it to hear Sam moan, to feel him push up against Dean's mouth.

"Oh, please don't stop, please," Sam whispers, digging his fingers into Dean's hair and pressing him closer. Dean sucks, and Sam pulls in a sharp breath.

In the middle of Sam's moan, Dean lets himself trace the curve of Sam's dick. Leaning forward to gently bite Sam's other nipple, he wets his fingers in Sam's slick precum, then begins rubbing tiny circles on the underside of Sam's cock, just under the head.

"Dean," Sam moans, long and drawn out, and Dean has to make him moan more, has to hear his name on Sam's lips again, has to make him come.

He wraps his hand around Sam's straining cock and pulls, and he loves the way Sam moans and arches, his fingertips digging into Dean's scalp.

"Oh, oh god," Sam hisses as Dean strokes him, all slick with precum and aloe. He feels Sam's dick harden even more, feels it give a strong twitch in his hand. He sucks hard on Sam's nipple.

"Dean!" Sam moans, desperate and broken, and he comes all over his belly and Dean's hand.

Dean leans back, panting, and stares at the streaks of cum on Sam's heaving belly. He wants to taste it. Wants to.

Sam looks up at him, his eyes wet and shining, his face soft with orgasm, and Dean can't handle it. He shoves up off the floor and stumbles to the bathroom, then locks the door and yanks his pants down. Steadying himself against the sink with one hand, he jerks himself off fast and rough, his mind replaying the sight of Sam coming, the feel of his wet dick pulsing.

Biting his lip and choking back a moan, he comes hard, striping the sink with his semen. Immediately he feels shame settle like a hot stone in his belly.

After a cursory cleanup, Dean sits on the toilet, his face in his hands. 

He needs to stop drinking. He needs to stop touching Sam. He can already tell that both could easily become addictions, and he needs to quit while he still can.

Dean stands and looks into the mirror, taking in his red-bitten lips and bloodshot eyes. He's a wreck, in more ways than one. He wonders if Sam is, too.

Sammy. He can't keep him waiting, wondering if everything had turned to shit, wondering if he was to blame.

Squaring his shoulders, Dean walks out of the bathroom. He pokes his head into the bedroom, but there's nothing there but the lingering scent of semen. He finds Sam in the kitchen, skin still shiny and damp, face still flushed, eating a bowl of ice cream.

Sam doesn't meet his eyes, and Dean feels sick panic boil up inside.

But then Sam peeks up through his sweaty bangs. "That was really good," he says, all shy and quiet.

Not wanting to discuss it, Dean rifles in the cabinets for a clean bowl. "What do you want to do tomorrow?" he asks.

There's a long pause as Dean scoops ice cream into his bowl, then Sam says, "I guess swimming's out."

Dean laughs, a little bit forced. "Yeah. We don't want you to turn into a Sammy-lobster."

They spoon ice cream into their mouths.

"We could go to the mall," Dean suggests, and his laugh is easy when he sees the screwed up poop face Sammy makes.

"What, no mall?" Dean asks. "What kind of teenager are you?"

"I'm a hunter," Sam says with a shrug.

"Yeah, but hunters still like arcade games," Dean says nonchalantly into his ice cream.

"Oh shit! They have an arcade?" Sam's eyes are shining. "Let's go."

He's grinning as he finishes off his ice cream and licks off his spoon. He looks up at Dean, his face happy and relaxed.

"Next time get mint chocolate chip," he says, smiling, and if what they did makes Sam seem this happy, then it's not all bad, is it?

Dean watches Sam get up and put his bowl in the sink, watches him rinse his hands, watches the muscles move under his skin. He can't keep his eyes off of Sam.

He doesn't really want to.

It's going to be harder to forget, this time.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[Podfic] Undone Part 2: Sunburn](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4069033) by [fivebluesocks](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fivebluesocks/pseuds/fivebluesocks)




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